


What's Up The Kilt?

by Shes-claws-deep (CyrilOdahviing)



Series: Flash Sale Sep 2018 [14]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Begging, Blowjobs, F/M, Femdom, Forced Orgasm, Kilts, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Orgasm Torture, sub!Sledge, tease and denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 06:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16131236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrilOdahviing/pseuds/Shes-claws-deep
Summary: Watching Sledge parade around in a kilt all day has gotten you hot and bothered. Knowing how horny you are when he's wearing his tartans, he gets you a teddy bear to try and placate you. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you're not interested in any other toy than the one between his legs.





	What's Up The Kilt?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kossori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kossori/gifts).



If there’s one thing you really hate about kilts, it’s that you’re confined to the rules of public decency. Watching him strut around in his tartan all day was torture, particularly when you were sat next to him and relegated to keeping your hand on his thigh instead of under the kilt and between his legs. Now that you’re both at home, you’re ready to relieve all that stress.

The poor boy has an adorable teddy bear in his huge hands – an offering to appease you. Unfortunately for him, the only offering you want hangs between his legs. With a rough touch, you pin him against the wall and tear his blazer, shirt, and tie off him in a frenzied rush. He gasps and blushes but complies with equally hurried hands, his built chest heaving when your lips close around his nipple to suck hard. His chest trembles, his breath stuttering as you drop to your knees between his spread feet.

He’s too tall, you complain, tugging him down into a deep wall sit. In his hurry to comply, the bear dangles precariously from one hand. You notice it out of the corner of your eye and instruct him to keep it above his head – the poor thing doesn’t deserve to be all dirty.

Seamus, on the other hand, is going to get all kinds of messed up. His cock clearly agrees with you, rising up under the tartan and tenting the fabric. It’s far too tempting and you’re too impatient to undo the kilt; no, you have a better idea. That idea is to dive under the skirt, mouth closing over the head and taking your fill of something that’s been denied to you the entire day.

The soldier drops his jaw in a loud moan, knees trembling before you even start to lick and suck all over his monstrous cock. There’s a thrill in not being able to see your mouth work over him, in only watching the top of your head bob up and down under his kilt. It drives him mad, his hips bucking gently with every retreat of your warm mouth as though to protest your departure. Ah, but you’re so hungry and so intent on devouring him that you don’t care about him moving in his limited capacity, instead taking him as deep down your throat as you possibly can, tongue tracing the prominent veins all over him with relish.

Above you, Seamus is shaking with shuttered eyes and an open mouth, left to bite his lips and lick up his drool as it slips down his chin. His hands wring the poor plush that’s dwarfed in his grip, desperately holding onto his control when you mutter that he’s not allowed to cum just yet. Not yet? Fuck, he’s so close he can taste it. All the same, he warns you with a breathless, broken voice that he’s really really close, moans piteously in that same voice when you pull away and nibble on the head instead.

His thighs are aching like a motherfucker right now, his muscles trembling and knees creaking dangerously; he can’t keep this up for much longer. How long have you been sucking him off, teasing him and driving him to madness? It must have been ages, but Seamus is no champion at wall-sits. In answer, you flip the kilt up and surface for air, your lips slick and precum and drool drenching your chin.

He’s instructed to drop to the ground, something he’s so grateful for that he practically falls like a stone. But something else other than his ass throbs when you crawl into his lap with a predatory look in your eye; something tells him that you’re far from done. The warmth of your weight in his lap is a relief, and in a lapse of attention, the bear falls onto his shaven head.

Immediately you’re tutting at him, slapping at his huge biceps to get him to hold it up high in the air. He’s going to pay if that bear touches his head or falls below his forehead. The threat makes him tremble even more than your hand roughly shoving his kilt and your panties out of the way, more than the sight of you spreading your lips open so you can start slipping the head of his cock into you. But then it is the feel of you squeezing him so tightly and the sound of your slick that makes him whimper tremulously, the back of his head thudding against the wall when you descend so slowly.

Hurry, he’s begging you to hurry and sit on his cock fully. It’s torture that you’re taking him so slowly, opening yourself in little thrusts. Though when you finally get him all the way in, his balls resting against your perineum, Seamus cries out his relief with a chant of your name. You laugh at his desperation, ignoring his whimpers and begs for more as you brace yourself on his broad shoulders so you can get some leverage to move.

It’s hard to ride him when he’s so big, doesn’t he know? That it’s so hard for his huge cock to slide in and out of you even though you’re so soaking wet that your slick is trailing down his clenching balls? Also, you’re so distracted by his quickly tearing eyes, the slack-jawed look on his handsome face to really move. Good thing you have a vibe nearby, right?

It doesn’t take long for Seamus to reach over to the nightstand and fish it out of your toy drawer, watching miserably as you opt to rock on his huge cock instead of riding him fully. It soon clears up and changes into a haze of pleasure and arousal when you press the head of the vibe to your clit, the pleasure urging you to squeeze around his length and rock quickly.

He’s whining now, whispering for mercy, panting so quickly that he’s becoming light headed. Let him cum, for the love of the gods, please let him cum! His balls haven’t been drained in ages, surely you wouldn’t leave your toy like that? You hum and kiss him gently, flicking the vibe up a notch and moaning against his lips when it makes you plaster yourself to him and rock harder. Your pussy clenches tight around him, squeezing and squeezing but finding that his erection is unyielding and throbbing within you. Seamus is close to sobbing, his face ruddy and tear-streaked and wet with drool; you haven’t ridden him properly and he’s teetering at the edge. He can’t move, not with his hands outstretched above his head and his legs splayed wide open. He’s at your mercy, left to suffer as you please.

Laughing at his misery, you cum hard around him and rut quickly on his cock. The sounds coming from your pussy are slick and dirty, your girlcum frothing around his thickness. Alas, Seamus isn’t quite broken just yet, you feel. You’re not going to stop until he’s sobbing and drooling and begging like a slut for his orgasms.

He’s nodding before you finish. Yes, he’s a slut. He’s such a slut for you. Oh god, please just let him cum, he’s so close he can taste it. But you ignore him yet again, cumming around his cock again and again until you’re slumped against him with stars flickering in your eyes. You’re still tight around him, limbs wrapped around him, rocking gently to ride out the sensitivity post-orgasm; still denying him relief even as he cries into your shoulder and lets his hands drop to clutch at your back and dig scratches into your flesh.

The bear lies forlornly beside you, its fur as ruffled as Seamus’ appearance.

You laugh at the sight, kissing his cheek gently and telling him he’s been a bad boy for disobeying you. But it’s okay, his mistress will be nice enough to let him have one last hoorah before doomsday. Insane with denial and frustration and pain, Seamus doesn’t react much to you sliding off his soaking wet cock and replacing your pussy with your hands and vibe. But he does react when you lick a stripe up his purpling head.

With a yell, he cums and follows it up with a gut-wrenching groan, his brow furrowing and his eyes squeezed shut. Pearly seed spurts from his pisshole, squirting up and landing on his chest, his kilt, your face, and even your breasts as you milk his orgasm out of it with hand and machine both. When he comes back down to earth, he’s still lightheaded and trembling uncontrollably, slumping over sideways as the strength drains from his body.

Thinking that was it, Seamus huffs and puffs and thanks you breathlessly, leaning his head back against the wall in relief. Oof, the poor boy is forgetting one thing. That was his reward, now time for his punishment.

Before he can react, you’re stroking his cock again, vibrator pinned to his throbbing and growing cock between your fingers and his flesh. He ratchets up and claws at the wall, his legs scrabbling behind you for purchase as his pleasure turns to pain and fire and ice, his body seizing and forcing him sideways onto the floor.

Instead of pleas for you to let him cum, now he’s begging for you to stop in harsh yells in his thick brogue, tears pouring from his eyes and his body cringing away from you as much as possible. Yet for all his flailing, he cums again and somehow manages not to hit you in his crazed struggling. Cum spills over your fingers and spurts up onto his chest again, spurring you to keep on going even as his cock wilts beneath your fingers.

Again. Again. You’re not done, keep going.

No, no please stop. Seamus will do anything to make you stop, just please stop!

Through the tears and drool gunking his lashes closed, he can make out your sadistic grin as you finally let him go so he can sprawl across the floor. His tongue is thick in his mouth, his throat choked up and hoarse from his screaming and pleading. The tartan of his kilt is flipped up and drenched in cum and sweat, revealing his abused cock and balls and the twitching of his body as he struggles to recover from your lustful attentions.

Above him, you wipe your brow and pick up the bear gingerly, placing it next to his head in a clean spot. Well, that’s a job well done, you think. You’ll give him a couple of minutes to recover and then…maybe round two?


End file.
